


Dan Rydell Alongside Casey McCall

by leiascully



Series: Dan And Casey Have A Fight [2]
Category: Sports Night
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-06
Updated: 2008-05-06
Packaged: 2017-10-03 05:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When you realize you've just fucked up the best thing you've got going for you, sometimes that requires a little drastic action."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dan Rydell Alongside Casey McCall

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: post-series  
> A/N: For [**phoebesmum**](http://phoebesmum.livejournal.com/), to liven up her weekend, and because she deserved a little something sweet after I made Danny punch Casey the last time around.  
> Disclaimer: _Sports Night_ and all characters belong to Aaron Sorkin and ABC. No infringement is intended.

Casey woke up in the hall, rolled half over, and stared blearily up at Danny, who was staring blearily down at him, looking as rough as Casey felt.

"Casey," said Danny, "did you spend the night in front of my door?"

Casey clambered slowly to his feet. He was too old for this. "As much as I would like that not to be true," he said, trying to buy time to come up with an explanation, but all that came to him was a twinge in his shoulder that reinforced the first impression of being too old for this, "yes. Yes, I did."

"Why?" Danny unlocked the door and motioned Casey in, none of last night's bitterness in his face and no real hesitation. His expression wasn't quite full-on Danny-mask-of-pain, but there was something edgy about him underneath a night's stubble and grime. Less than Casey would have expected, but not the usual open joy.

"You weren't answering," he said, pressing his fingers into his shoulder and walking past Danny into the apartment. "Figured I'd wait until you did. Guess I fell asleep. Something about the healing power of humiliation. You weren't answering your phone either."

"Forgot to charge it," said Danny with a certain amount of chagrin, as if he regretted it, and not as if he wished he'd turned it off in a righteous, justified huff. He flicked on the light and turned to Casey, putting one hand under Casey's chin. Casey allowed his face to be lifted and turned gently. Danny examined him for a moment and then released him and sighed.

"That's a nice bruise you've got," he said. "Maybe you should get some better friends, Case."

"I don't know about better ones," Casey said, "but I might have to get some new ones after Alyson kills you."

"True. Or we could just not tell her it was me." Danny hesitated. "You want breakfast. I've got...." He crossed the living room to the little kitchen and opened the fridge. "Nothing. I've got nothing. You want to go out to breakfast? My treat."

"I do make it a practice never to turn down free food," Casey said, propping his hands on his hips, and it was surreal how easy all of this was. Him and Danny, as was and ever should be, except that after confessions, after kisses, and after knuckles slammed into cheekbones, it ought to have been different. He wondered if Danny's hand was tender the way his own face was. Casey pushed his hands into his pockets, still standing close to the door, and Danny braced his hands on the countertop, leaning forward. They watched each other.

"So," Casey began, and Danny cut him off.

"Is this going to be the McCall-Midwestern-brick-wall-subtle segue into asking where I was last night and why I never told you?"

"No," Casey said with as much dignity as he could muster. "I was going to say that I'm sorry I kissed you, but not for the reasons that you think that I'm sorry. I don't want you to think that it was in any way an attempt to manipulate or humiliate you. Except," he added as an afterthought, "it might have been a misguided ploy to keep you from going home with a second-string soccer player."

"Apology accepted," said Danny. "Sorry I punched you. The reaction was disproportionate to the action, but I was angry and I was drunk. It's not an excuse, but. You know. Not something I do very often. The punching."

"I know the feeling," Casey nodded. "I'll forgive you when the swelling goes down."

"That's not fair," Danny complained. "I gave you immediate absolution for your disproportionate reaction even though you tasted like makeup remover and peanuts."

"Fine, forgiven." They half-smiled at each other, but turned away as they met each other's eyes, and the air was still thick with too many questions.

"So, Danny," Casey said, too casually. "Where were you last night?"

Danny reached for some takeout menus and studied them. "Where do you want to go for breakfast?"

"Okay, fine," Casey said, holding up his hands. "Hint taken. None of my business. I'm your best friend, not your boyfriend." He paused, almost winced, and then blundered on. "But just so you know, none of those places serves breakfast."

Dan sighed and looked up, meeting Casey's eyes. "After I cooled down a little, I tried to go home with a second-string soccer player, but it turns out he saw me leaving the bar with my cranky and suddenly possessive co-anchor and decided he didn't want to step on the toes of what was clearly a committed long-term relationship between two people who were having a petty argument."

"Relationships don't have toes," said Casey automatically, and Danny ignored him.

"Long story short, I spent the rest of the night riding the ferry until they kicked me off. Cooled down a lot more."

"Hey, Danny," Casey said awkwardly. "I, uh. I'm sorry I ruined your...hookup."

"'S fine," Danny said, and though he wasn't looking at Casey again, there was that crooked smile tucked into the corner of his mouth. "He wasn't famous enough for me anyway. Probably would have spent the whole night pandering to my greatness."

"Better when there's a mutual sense of greatness," Casey said, rocking on the balls of his feet, no idea what was going on or what he was saying. "Wait. He thought we were together?"

"He did think that," Danny said, studying the menu for a late-night pizza place, the one that he and Casey could recite almost by heart. "And before you ask, Case, it's been a rumor for a long time."

"I've never heard this rumor," Casey protested.

"You were married," Danny said. "No one was going to tell you."

"I could take it!"

"Yeah?" said Danny.

"Who's heard this rumor?" Casey demanded. "Natalie? Dana? Kim? Jeremy?"

"I'd imagine pretty much everyone has heard it," Danny said.

"But not me."

"You're not really the type who's going to hear this kind of thing, Case."

"And you are?"

"I am," said Danny, settling back onto his heels and looking at Casey, his head tipped back and that inscrutable look on his face. "Unlike you, I'm not an unimpeachable bastion of heterosexuality. We work in sports. Any non-macho behavior is going to get noticed, and word gets around. If you try to keep a secret, it only holds for so long. After a while, somebody notices, or stops pretending to ignore it. Guys get outed by accident, by vendetta, because they just get tired of it. You've seen it happen. It's less bad for me because I'm just an anchor, not an athlete, but yeah, I hear the rumors."

"I'm not a macho bastion," said Casey lamely. "I took gymnastics."

"Hmm," said Danny, holding another menu up to study it: a placemat they'd stolen from a Waffle House in Alabama.

"I'm not!" said Casey. "I'm not unimpeachable! I kissed you, didn't I? Not the straightest thing anyone's ever done."

"Ah," said Danny, "but you were drunk. And you were angry. I know you, Case. This was an extraordinary event, and by that, I mean one you won't repeat."

"So come here," said Casey. "I'm sober and I'm calm."

"You're not calm."

"Goddammit, Danny, come here so I can kiss you. I'm not getting punched again."

"Goddammit, Casey, don't do this!" Danny said, and threw down the menu. "You can't just kiss me and walk out. It doesn't work that way. It has to be real."

"I wasn't planning on going anywhere," Casey said. "Maybe you don't know me."

"I'm not in the mood for this," Danny said, and stalked past. Casey grabbed his shirt, still wrinkled from being crumpled in his fists the night before. They stood toe to toe, breathing hard.

"Danny," said Casey.

"I'm not your experiment," said Danny. "You can't do this to me, Case."

"Not doing anything," Casey said, staring into Danny's wide angry eyes. "Just standing here. You're not an experiment, Danny."

"You're surprised you didn't know and you're jealous that I didn't tell you," Danny said. "It's like witnessing a car accident. Go home and sleep it off."

"You spend too much time around Abby," Casey said. "I'm not going anywhere until we fix this."

"It's not raining at Indian Wells," said Danny, a little snide but not trying to move away.

"Just as well," said Casey. "It's not Passover anytime soon either."

"This will pass," Danny said. "You're just in shock. You can sleep here. I'll take the couch."

"Uh uh," Casey said, shaking his head slowly, not breaking eye contact. "I know you, Danny. I spent pretty much every day of the last ten years with you. And Jaegermeister notwithstanding, I remember enough significant moments to know you're at least as much in love with me as I am with you. And you know me. I'm a blockhead. Dense as two short planks. I'm gonna get picked up for lumber sports next season and they'll put me under the blade. Sometimes it takes being punched in the face to realize you know what you know. Think about how long it took me to split up with Lisa. This won't pass. Maybe if you'd answered your damn phone last night I could have explained then."

"Batteries," Danny said. "Your hand's all scraped up." He put his own hand over it, tentatively.

"I punched a wall."

"Alyson's going to kill you."

"Yeah, well," said Casey. "When you realize you've just fucked up the best thing you've got going for you, sometimes that requires a little drastic action."

"Casey," said Danny.

"Danny."

"I haven't brushed my teeth."

"Neither have I."

"Casey," said Danny.

"Danny."

"This is kind of ridiculous."

"That is very true, my friend."

"Not at all what I planned."

"You had plans?" Casey murmured. Danny seemed very close, and his pupils kept dilating. Casey wondered if Danny felt as dizzy as he did.

"I had a couple of plans."

"That's good," Casey said. "At least somebody did. Me, I'm just winging this."

"I know how you hate that," Danny said.

"I'm not hating it too much," Casey said. "Now that I know you're not going to punch me again. Because you're so madly in love with me."

"Keep it up, McCall," Danny said. "I've got plenty of other ways to punish you. Ways that are less likely to provoke Alyson's wrath."

"I like how you're not denying that you're madly in love with me," said Casey.

"Well," said Danny, "in the face of such compelling declarations of undying devotion as you have made this morning, I would have to be a cruel individual indeed to turn you away before you even got to the good part. After that I might deny everything, kick you out, and break your heart, but I might as well let you embarrass yourself first."

"True," said Casey. "I imagine I'll get to that eventually. Just, you know, takes some working up to." He looked down at Danny, unable to stop grinning, and Danny was grinning back up at him. "Thank God for your idiot soccer player. Can we send him a thank you card?"

"You know what you are, McCall?" said Danny. "You're a tease. You come swaggering in here with your big words and your tough act and...." He stopped speaking abruptly, because Casey had leaned down to kiss him. Danny's cheeks were scratchy but his lips were soft, still dry, almost familiar now. Kissing Danny got better every time, and if it wasn't exactly minty fresh, at least they were in it together. Both of them, together, living through the same moments.

"What was that?" Casey murmured a few minutes later. "I swagger in with my what?"

"Your total lack of followthrough," said Danny. "And your cute ass." He slipped one hand around the back of Casey's head and dragged him down.

"At least one of those is not true," Casey said, his teeth clicking against Danny's. "And I'm hoping the first one."

"Mmm," said Danny, and didn't say much else for a while, but his hands found their way into Casey's back pockets, and Casey found he didn't mind. After a while Danny sighed and broke away and set his forehead against Casey's. Slightly sticky, both of them, but Casey was okay with that, as long as it meant Danny was close, not halfway across the city and possibly in someone else's bed. "You know we're going to have a lot of talking to do about this?"

"Yeah," said Casey. "We're gonna risk turning into women, we've got so much talking to do. At least we'd be a hot pair of lesbians."

Danny chuckled. "Case."

"Danny."

"Let's go brush our teeth."

"An idea man. I knew I loved you for a reason." And it was so easy to say somehow, and so easy to feel now, and Casey could hardly remember being this happy since Charlie was born. Even his cheek ached less, and his shoulder wasn't stiff at all.

"Lots of reasons," said Danny. "Wait 'til you hear what I've got planned."

"Yeah?" said Casey, pulling away reluctantly so that they could move toward the bathroom without tripping over each other. "Figure out which late-night place will offer breakfast? Because I'm thinking your extensive collection of menus is not going to help with the problem of waffles."

"I've got a better idea. Listen to this."

"I'm all ears, Danny."

Danny paused and spread his hands wide in the air. "After the clean teeth: a nap. Then lunch."

"Not kicking me out and breaking my heart?"

"Nope," said Danny. "You punched a wall for me. That pretty much means you're either suffering from anger management problems or madly in love with me, and I choose to believe the latter, since you haven't killed Dana or Natalie yet. Or Lisa, for that matter."

"Okay," said Casey, pinning Danny against the sink and reaching around him for the spare toothbrush. "First rule: no talking about exes in the bedroom or near the bedroom, and especially no talking about Lisa."

"You and your rules," Danny said, but he wasn't really complaining, not with that light in his eyes. He reached up and touched Casey's cheek just under the bruise. "Case. You're really okay with this? Me? Men? You? Me? Both of us being, you know, men?"

Casey shrugged. "Can't fight the truth, Danny. We've got plenty of time to work things out. May take a while to ease into the, you know, sex, but you're Danny and I love you and we'll make it work. I'm too old to give up on something this good. I know better."

Danny pressed his face into Casey's shoulder. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. I was afraid it would go badly, but I should have told you anyway."

"Your life, your prerogative. I'm sorry I freaked the hell out when you did tell me."

"No problem," said Danny, and his forgiveness after the pain of the night before was a balm. "Epiphanies will do that to you. And you know what?"

"Tell me." Casey felt peace spreading through him, and the sweet warmth of being next to the man he'd spent a good third of his life in love with without ever really realizing it. Better late than never, he thought, brushing Danny's hair off his forehead.

"I'm Dan Rydell alongside Casey McCall, and none of the rest of it matters," Danny said, grinning that grin that Casey loved, the one that made Danny's whole self glow.

"Damn right," he said, and kissed Dan again.


End file.
